


act of love

by Unclesteeb



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Religion, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: Bucky closes his eyes and presses a kiss to Sam's forehead. He doesn't have many positive feelings about God anymore. He doesn't know if he even believes anymore. But if he did, he'd be sure that God sent Sam straight from heaven.





	

“Let’s go.” Bucky had told Sam a few weeks ago. They’d been cooped up in Brooklyn so long now. Bucky’s skin felt itchy and his chest felt tight. They were free to go wherever they wanted now, and Bucky wasn’t so sure why they were both still in a city full of their ghosts. 

“Go where?” Sam had asked, tucking a stray curl back behind Bucky’s ear. He looked so tired. They’ve been in bed for hours, both unable to sleep. Bucky wanted those circles under his eyes to go away forever. 

Bucky shrugged, “Anywhere.”

 

They immediately drive south, to a city that’s name makes Bucky squeeze his eyes shut when they see the first exit sign. 

“They signed the declaration of independence here.” Sam offers, smiling. He wants to go see independence mall. He probably wants to eat a cheesesteak. That’s what normal people would do here.

Bucky’s face crumples up. “I set off a fire bomb off in this city. Thirty years ago.” he admits, quiet. He sees the flashes behind his eyes. Fire, flames, death, destruction. 

“Okay.” Sam says, easy as anything. “We’ll keep going.” 

They stop in a little town at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. Bucky grabs Sam’s hand as soon as they exit the car. Their arms swing as they walk back and forth. 

It’s a beautiful sight, the bay. The water's clear and blue. Bucky tries to pry inside that twisted up mind of his and attempts to remember if he ever went to the beach before. 

They eat ice cream as the sun sets. Sam leans over to taste some of Bucky’s, licking the ice cream while Bucky holds the cone still. 

“Raspberry ice cream isn’t that good.” he declares, making a face and smacking his lips. 

Bucky smiles, “I think it is. Plus, it matches the sunset.” 

Sam gives him a little shove, “You’re lucky you’re cute. You're such a weirdo.” 

It’s a silly enough thing to say to get Bucky’s attention away from his ice cream to look at Sam. Bucky feels himself go slack-jawed. The dark oranges and pinks from the sunset make Sam’s skin look even warmer than normal. He looks golden. Bucky wants to make him a crown, wants to get on his knees. _I’m not worthy. Why are you here? Why don’t you go where someone can love you better?_

“You’re the cute one.” is all he says instead.

They get a hotel in Maryland that night. It’s a seedy joint and Sam whips out some disinfectant spray from his suitcase. Bucky laughs. “You’re such a boy scout.”

Sam grins, “Well I spent two years chasing your ass around the world. I learned a few things about last minute travel.”

Bucky’s heart sinks and he watches as Sam finishes spraying every surface in the room. When he’s done and depositing the spray back into his bag Bucky comes up behind him. He wraps his arms around Sam’s middle and presses a kiss to his clothed shoulder. ‘“You’re stupid.” he tells Sam. He really doesn’t think it, he just can’t stand the thought of Sam and sometimes Steve running all across the globe looking for him. He doesn’t understand why either. He can’t wrap his head around how someone could possibly be so good, so beautiful. How Sam can be all the good things in the entire world and still want someone like him.

“You smell.” Sam says, teasing him right back. Bucky rocks them back and forth gently and Sam leans his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. 

With his neck exposed, Bucky presses a kiss to Sam’s soft skin there. His chest feels full and body feels electric. He squeezes his right hand with his metal one a little harder to counteract the feeling. Sam makes a happy noise at having Bucky’s lips on him, so Bucky does it again and this time adds teeth that drag along Sam’s neck. 

Sam moans in his throat and leans back to fist Bucky’s hair in his hand. “You just gonna tease me or are you gonna do something about it?”

Bucky smiles against Sam’s skin and stops rocking them. “Depends, what do you want?”

Sam chuckles, “Come on, I thought we were past this part, Barnes.” He spins around in Bucky’s embrace. Sam’s brown eyes look into Bucky’s. He places two strong, _warm_ hands on Bucky’s biceps. Bucky wonders if he would flinch at the cold of the metal one if it wasn’t covered by a shirt. Bucky leans in to kiss him and tells his mind to shut up. Sam kisses back, so goddamn sweet, speaking words with his tongue that neither of them want to say out loud. He detaches himself from Bucky’s lips and ducks when Bucky chases him. He rubs his thumbs over Bucky’s cheekbones, his eyes soft, his lips a little swollen from kissing. “I want you, Buck.” 

Bucky feels like he just got punched in the stomach. That’s where it really hurts the worst, he thinks. He can take a punch to the face any day, but a good one to the stomach always seems to make him want to double over, cough or maybe just sink to his knees. So that’s exactly what he does. 

He looks up at Sam as his fingers, both metal and the ones he was born with fumble with Sam’s belt and jeans. Sam’s so fucking beautiful. It takes Bucky’s breath away. He swallows hard. He’s on his knees feeling so unworthy, so lucky so blessed and he can’t help but wonder if this is what praying used to feel like, he can’t remember. Sam takes his cock out and Bucky quickly wraps his lips around the head. He uses only his mouth to take Sam deep, deep into his throat. He intertwines his fingers together in his lap and his brain remembers, _perfect in power, in love and purity. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God almighty._

Sam cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair after, sleepy and satisfied himself. Bucky lets Sam rest on his chest, working out the knots in his curls and rubs a line with his pointer finger up and down Sam’s back. He can hear crickets outside and the occasional pass of a tractor trailer. He tries not to remember the time he crashed one into an office building full of diplomats and focuses on Sam’s breathing and touch to help him fall asleep. 

 

Bucky’s stayed up all night enough to know that the saying ‘it’s always darkest before the dawn’ is a load of bullshit, but it never seems to feel that way. There’s something about four am that makes Bucky’s stomach clench up when he sees it on his clock. He remembers getting home from Wakanda and being too scared to sleep. He didn’t have a reason why, just knew that he didn’t feel safe sleeping in the same house as Sam. His mind raced constantly about the various ways he could hurt Sam. He’d done it before and he could do it again, trigger words or not. 

Most of the time, between three and four in the morning Bucky would start to get so tired that there was no keeping him awake anymore. He remembers being able to stay up for days and days when he was with Hydra. He guesses that’s what years and years of _improper body maintenance_ will do to a guy. 

He’d make his way into Steve’s bedroom when he started to feel his eyes droop, because he knew that if something happened to him or he managed to get himself trapped in a nightmare and lash out, that Steve would stop him from hurting Sam. Steve had this plush reclining chair in the corner of his bedroom that he liked to read in, and it became Bucky’s bed pretty quickly. He’d tuck himself into the chair and wrap himself up with a blanket. Steve would usually wake up when the sun started to peek through the window and go running either with Sam or by himself. Bucky would get a little woken up by him moving around, but he didn’t care, he always found it easier to sleep with the sun shining behind his eyelids. 

Bucky’s not surprised when Sam wakes up with a flash around 4:15am. He’s instantly sitting up and gasping. 

Bucky cracks his eyes open, “You okay?” he asks quietly into the darkness.

Sam’s breath hitches on his gasping inhale, “Where’s Steve?” He asks Bucky quietly. He must have been dreaming about him. 

“He’s- he’s not here.” Is what Bucky manages. Since he really doesn’t fucking know anymore. Steve had taken off after they became legal citizens again. Bucky guesses that he had a lot to deal with that- Steve leaving. Steve knew he was never going to be the same, but he just couldn’t stop looking at Bucky like he was a complete stranger and like he was his old self again all at once. Steve drove himself a little nuts being cooped up with Bucky. It didn’t do Bucky any favors either. “Do you want to call him?” Bucky asks, because he still has Steve’s number. They check up on each other sometimes. He knows he and Sam talk all the time still. He’s really glad. 

“No.” Sam says, purposefully slowing his breaths down. “I just dreamt I didn’t catch him in time, that’s all.” 

Bucky remembers the fight on the helicarrier. He remembers flashes of Steve falling from one, and Sam soaring through the air, nose diving to catch him and pull him back up onto a different one of those flying ships. Bucky remembers this because he was waiting to kill Steve. Bucky remembers this because just a few minutes later, he ripped off Sam's wings and kicked him into the open air.

“You caught him.” Bucky whispers, pulling Sam close to him. He can't stand the thought of Sam feeling bad. He should never feel bad. Guilt pools low in Bucky’s gut, feeling responsible that Sam ever had to catch Steve at all.

Sam sighs against him. “I know.” 

“He's probably up or getting up soon if you want to call him.” Truth be told, Bucky has no idea what Steve's doing these days, but he's absolutely sure that Steve would answer Sam's call regardless of where he was and if he was sleeping or not.

“I'm okay, just… just keep talking.” 

“Well, before I fell asleep I remembered something.” Bucky says. He did. He remembered a prayer as he was thinking about Sam soaring in the sky (as he often does). His beautiful angel, his Michael. The thought of Sam being held up high and worshipped sits comfortably in his chest. “Can I tell you it?”

“Mhm.”

“It's… it’s a prayer. And it reminds me of you.” Bucky says. He remembers Steve whispering it between the commandos before they would charge into somewhere recklessly. He remembers closing his eyes and wondering if Steve was wasting his breath. Then he wraps his arms around Sam a little tighter, closes his eyes and starts to pray. “ _Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do you, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen._ ” 

Sam doesn't say anything in reply. He's closed his eyes by the time Bucky's finished praying and opens his eyes to look at Sam again. Bucky can tell he's not asleep, but if Sam wants to pretend he is, that's okay too.

Bucky closes his eyes and presses a kiss to Sam's forehead. He doesn't have many positive feelings about God anymore. He doesn't know if he even believes anymore. But if he did, he'd be sure that God sent Sam straight from heaven. 

 

Bucky does believe in the devil. A devil that's red with horns and blood dripping from his mouth. He remembers the time when he had no other choice but to die or try to kill a man with his teeth. He remembers getting in a fight with Steve and running his bloodied knuckles across his mouth by accident. He remembers biting his tongue almost clear off while they were shocking him, taking all that makes him Bucky away, again and again. Turning him into something else, someone else. Bucky remembers the undertaker. Death and destruction, rinse and repeat. Easy as anything. _Soldat. Take out the target. Collateral damage is not of your concern._

 

“If you could be anyone, who would you be?” Sam asks as they're driving straight past Washington DC. Bucky knows he's trying to distract them both, pull them out of their heads and away from the guilt that they both think of when they consider their nation’s capitol. 

_I know that you loved it here. I'm sorry I ruined this city for you. I hurt you, I hurt everyone I touch. All my fault, all my fault, all my fault_ , Bucky thinks. He stares out the window of the car and watches the trees pass, just a blur of green and sometimes brown and yellow if you look down at them at the right angle.

“Did you hear me?” Sam asks. 

“What?”

“I said, if you could be anyone, who would you be?”

Bucky twists his face up and hums, considering it. He’d rather be no one. He’d rather just- He decides he'd rather hear Sam's answer more. “I don't know. What about you?”

Sam rolls his eyes at Buckys avoidance and purses his lips. “I want to say T’Challa since I think it would be pretty badass to have all that money and tech available to me, but then I think about the whole king thing and I…” he trails off with a shrug.

“You don't think you could be a king?” 

“I don't even want to try thinking about all that responsibility. That man goes through a hell of a lot.”

Bucky forces himself to push down his feelings of, I _put him through a lot. He didn’t tell me exactly what and I don’t deserve to know but if I wasn’t there things would have been easier. He saved me. He saved me. Why?_ And instead Bucky closes one of his eyes and tries to imagine Sam wearing a crown. He can see it so clearly, sitting on top of his head. The crown would be golden and encrusted with jewels. “You could be a king.” He tells Sam. “You’d make a great king.”

Sam glances over at him. “No way.”

Bucky smiles, “ You’re a natural born leader. If you were a lion you’d be the leader of the pride.” 

Sam snorts, “Where do you even come up with this stuff?”

“This brain of mine is useful for more than just forgetting stuff.”

It’s quiet for a while after that. Bucky watches the trees pass some more and rests his head on the passenger side window. Neither of them are in a rush to start talking again. Silences with Sam never feel uncomfortable. They never did. He sighs, and finally says, “I want to be invisible.”

“Huh?” Sam asks, furrowing his brow and looking over at Bucky quickly. 

“Your question. Who would I want to be? I’d want to be someone that’s invisible.” Sam doesn’t say anything, so Bucky keeps on talking. “I just want to be able to exist sometimes. I don’t want to have to think about saving the world.”

“Yeah.” Sam says, not taking his eyes off of the road. “Me too.”

 

“Why are you letting me drag you across the country like this?” Bucky asks Sam just outside of Columbus. This hotel room is nicer than the rest they’ve stayed in. It has a bathtub that’s big enough for the both of them. Bucky poured bubbles in it and they giggled and kissed, feeling like lovesick teenagers. Then after they had gotten out and toweled off Sam pushed him down on the bed and rode him until they both saw stars. “I don’t even know where we’re going. When you ask right or left I just pick randomly.” 

“Because it’s fun.” Sam says. He looks over at Bucky with his sweet, sleepy eyes. Bucky reaches out and runs his thumb along Sam’s full bottom lip. “And because I love you.” He opens his mouth and nips at Bucky’s finger. 

“Dunno why.” Bucky says. There’s something about being naked, satisfied and sleepy that always seems to make the both of them more honest. 

Sam shrugs with one shoulder and gives Bucky a little smile. “Dunno either. Probably ‘cuz I’m an idiot.” 

Bucky scoffs and moves closer to Sam. He gives him a kiss, one that’s long and slow. He thinks I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy, and he moans when Sam cups his ass with both hands and pulls him close. They break apart after a while, and Sam wraps himself up around in Bucky, even their legs intertwined. 

Bucky rests his forehead on Sam’s. He thinks of a different kind of life. He thinks about running away and letting everyone call him ‘James’, even Sam if he wanted to. He imagines them getting a little house by the water- maybe the pacific ocean. Oregon’s always seemed really nice to him in his mind’s eye. He imagines a life where he and Sam didn’t feel the need to rush after every damsel (or friend) in distress. He lets himself imagine a world where he and Sam could just be. He bets they’d even get a dog, maybe a cat too. He imagines coming home from a long day’s work and kissing Sam hello. He imagines it so hard it aches inside his chest. He loves Sam so goddamn much it hurts sometimes. 

_You are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, I will give people exchange for you, nations in exchange for your life._

Sam’s breaths even out next to him, their foreheads still pressed tightly together. Bucky closes his eyes. It feels so good to be with Sam like this. He wishes he could wrap this feeling up, stuff it in a bottle. He’d keep it in his pocket forever. He’d never let it go, he swears. For a long while, all he does is just listen to Sam breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [ tumblr ](unclesteeb.tumblr.com)


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